“What did you want to show us?” I ask Grace, praying for a distraction. Any distraction. I would watch her play Minecraft right now or buy her entire Shein shopping cart if she asked. Anything to give me a focal point beyond the softness of Riley’s pink hair and my undeniable desire to twirl a strand around my finger. Or weave your hand into it and grip those ridiculous pink tresses in your fist.
